Page 29 of One Billion Reasons

I wake with a sore neck, a numb shoulder, and a pervading sense of dread. Light is streaming in through the curtains I forgot to close, and I groan softly. The couch does not pull out, as I discovered last night after my three glasses of wine. After tugging ineffectually at it and nearly falling over, I tossed and turned for an hour before falling asleep. I heard Miles come in after I did, and I tried desperately to ignore the sound of the shower through the thin door. Luckily, I didn’t drink enough to be hungover. And luckily I had the presence of mind not to call my brother while I was tipsy.

I shut my eyes against the light and imagine how comfortable Miles must be in that huge bed. It looked like an ocean of white cotton and plush pillows. He’s probably sleeping right in the middle, comfortable as a king and dead to the world. Ugh. Regret and anxiety make my stomach sour. I can’t think about Miles right now.

My phone says it’s 7 a.m., which means Liam will definitely be awake. He’s a commercial fisherman out of Montauk, and his days start early. He’s out on the boat right now and will be until Friday. It’s too early to be awake, but I’m too sick at heart to go back to sleep.

I hate you. I will always hate you. I can’t believe I blurted that out. If Miles knew how many of my thoughts he consumed for years, for better or for worse, he’d probably be shocked. And the things he said to me… I can’t believe Liam would lie like that.

I’m too restless to sit in the room, so I pull on my sweats and a flannel before heading down the silent hall and out the side door of the hotel into the dim morning light. Fog hangs low over the water. The light is soft and grey, not like the piercing sunlight of yesterday. I take a deep breath of ocean air and immediately feel better. I avoid looking at the gazebo and the outdoor deck as I pick over the stones to the wooden stairs that lead to the beach. The aftermath of a party in the morning light is always a little sad, even though I’ve seen it countless times after years of photographing nights of debauchery.

The wind picks at my hair and my clothes as I head down the steps to the ocean. There’s a small strip of beach, but it’s mostly rocks and turbulent waves. Not somewhere I’d go for a relaxing swim, but I don’t mind. I’ve never been one to lounge on the beach. I’d rather bundle up for a beach walk with my camera than strip down and lay in the sand.

I settle onto a mostly dry boulder with a flat top. I text Liam before I call him because he’s not expecting a call. Ever since that awful night we got a call about our parents, we’ve texted before calling out of the blue.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey there.” He sounds chipper and happy to chat, which makes one of us.

“Hey, big bro.” It’s an inside joke, since he’s ten minutes older than I am. “How’s the water?” Liam doesn’t always have service, so he must not be too far offshore today.

“Beautiful. I think you’d like it out here. The fog is thick today. Can barely see a few feet in front of the boat.”

“Sounds beautiful,” I say absently.

“So what’s up?”

I clear my throat awkwardly. He has no idea I’m at this wedding with Miles. Shit. Will he care? I didn’t think of this before I called him. “I have a question.”

“Shoot,” he says with a yawn.

“Remember the accident you got into with Miles?”

“That’s your question?” He laughs. “Of course I remember. I have a huge scar on my leg from that.”

“Don’t laugh, please. That was the second-worst day of my life.”

“I’m sorry.” He sobers. “I know.”

“Miles said that I should ask you who was driving that night.”

He’s silent for a second. Stunned, maybe? A gull cries in the silence, and I track it with my eyes.

“Shit. Was anyone else there when he told you?”

“No. No one knows. Why? Liam, what did you not tell me?”

There’s an awkward pause, and his breaths are loud in my ear, even over the crash of the waves. The story I was told about that night—because at this point, I think it might have been just that—was that Miles and Liam were out drinking, and Miles was driving and crashed his car. Miles walked away totally fine, while my brother broke his leg in three places and was unconscious at the scene. Nothing happened to Miles. No ticket. Nothing. Typical. Not even a slap on the wrist for playing with my brother’s life.

“Miles wasn’t driving that night. I was.”

“What the fuck, Liam? You’ve lied to me for two years?” I can’t believe it. Liam and I don’t keep secrets from each other. Not after we became each others’ only family.

“Lane, please.” His voice is pleading. “Don’t be mad.”

“Start talking, and I’ll think about it.”

He blows out a breath. “It was Miles’s idea. The lying. I had just started my job, and I needed to drive an hour to work every day and bring the catch to the restaurants to sell. Without a license, I wouldn’t have been able to work. And I definitely would have gotten a DUI after three drinks. They make them strong at the bar out here.”

“Why were you even driving after three drinks? You idiot,” I hiss.

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